


Herselves

by CoatTheBoneless



Category: Kingkiller Chronicles - Patrick Rothfuss
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 15:16:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15799173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoatTheBoneless/pseuds/CoatTheBoneless
Summary: Auri and Elodin suggest that everything has a consciousness, especially when it has a name. If this is true, then the wind is conscious. Here's how I imagine a day in the life of the wind would be like.





	Herselves

The Wind had slept the day away. 

In fact, the moon was already high in the sky before she finally awoke, curled up in a clearing. She started off slowly, little more than a breeze really, stirring the hot, muggy air with a handful of fingers. She flexed her countless toes, feeling the grass ripple between them. When she stretched, her arms wafted across the forest, gently rocking limbs and branches for miles in every direction.

Then, she seemed to hold her breath. Even Time paused in his eternal pillaging march forward to see what the Wind was going to do. Turns out, Time wasted a little bit of himself, because the Wind was simply getting ready to do what she does best.

Run.

She sprinted over streams and creeks, under the wings of tiny bats, and wove herself between leaves to dive like a dolphin over and under the canopy.

When she grew tired of this, she rose up into the sky, graceful as a fountain’s spray. She turned and looked out at the green world, and way off in the distance she could see the sparkle of tiny people with their tiny things.

She giggled, and reaching behind her, grabbed all the clouds she could into the world’s biggest embrace. She slowly dragged them to earth, until they covered the countryside in a thick fog.

She then somersaulted through the water droplets, scattering dew and small forest animals in every direction. With all the mist in the air, the Wind almost ran one of her faces right into her favorite spot.

A willow tree grew next to a small pond, near the forest’s edge. She skated across the pond’s surface for a while, and when she couldn’t keep herself in suspense any longer, she sat by the willow tree to play.

She spent many more hours tugging at the willow’s harp-string branches, singing a tune under her breath that few could hear and fewer still could understand. She sang of things trifling and grave, of what she had done that day in this forest and what she had done in forests like it the world over. She sung in chords with herself;

the drumming of waves crashing against cliffs,

the woodwinds whistling over the mouth of a cave,

the brass tornado blaring across a vast grassland,

the strings cutting ruthlessly across a frozen tundra,

the saxophone sending sand rippling down a dune,

the piano of rain upon the leaves of a steaming jungle.

Following the twists and turns of the conductor’s green baton, the music swelled, rose, strained against some unseen barrier…

And suddenly, the wind’s already blurry borders were completely wiped away.

Honestly, how silly of her to ever think that she was merely herself. One small eddy of air in one small part of the world. She could feel every instrument under her fingers at once and played them all in perfect harmony.

But even the greatest songs eventually come to an end. As the final notes of the music rang out across the world, the wind settled back into herselves. She left her drums, her piano, and finally, she lifted her fingers from the branches of her towering instrument,

Curled up in its roots,

And went to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me on Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/coat-the-boneless)


End file.
